


Not the Last of My Kind

by BlueDarknessIceHeart



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, Extended/Found Family, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen, Secret Children, Time Magic, Time Shenanigans, magical mishaps, might continue might not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 20:11:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20031658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueDarknessIceHeart/pseuds/BlueDarknessIceHeart
Summary: Athelle Lavellan had been an impressive woman, a great Inquisitor, and she had lost pieces of herself in Solas' disappearance and his betrayal. None of them had included her daughter, until she winds up her replacement in a spell gone wrong in a mad bid to undo their mistakes."I take it you already put things together, then? Mother always said you were quick if not a little stupid sometimes."She grinned, sharp canines and a gleam to her eyes when he seemed to flinch. Athelle had been nothing if not honest, he supposed.





	Not the Last of My Kind

**Author's Note:**

> I've honestly written a lot of DA:I stuff but it's all from 2016-2017, but that's where most of Athelle's grounding comes from. If anyone happens to be interested in seeing those stories I can tidy them up and post them.
> 
> Timeline for this is based on Inquisition ending in 9:42 Dragon and Trespasser happening during 9:44 Dragon.

The way Varric had taken to saying "we don’t like time travel around here" suddenly took on new meaning to Solas.

Some part of his mind still knew how the story went; how Athelle Lavellan, outcast and yet first of her clan, had risen to power amongst the Inquisition and taken to his side. The freedom of mages, Leliana as divine, and him vanishing from the battlefield after seeing the woman he'd foolishly fallen in love with was alive.  He still remembered the exalted council, Athelle's fist slamming against an eluvian she could never hope to force her way through, the burn of regret in the back of his throat. He could still see the gauntness of her cheeks from the way she’d taken to herself with a vengeance after he left the first time, the scars on her knuckles from breaking her fingers against the rotunda wall. Could see her figure was more fleshed out than he remembered, that his magic clung to her even after the anchor was gone. 

Of all people Athelle Lavellan had carried his child without him knowing and gone to war with a child not yet a year old tucked away under one of her advisor’s care. 

The hand he grabbed this time was smaller, the woman had no shock of red hair but her eyes were still bright green and spoke of the fade when they caught the light. She still had the lightest smattering of freckles across her cheeks, but her hair was more brown than the bright red he was so used to. Athelle’s sharp features mixed with his own brought about a more defined nose, sharper cheekbones, no vallaslin to be found on her. 

“I am Solas, if there are to be introductions.” 

His tone was still as soft and smooth as the first time he’d done this, despite his mind racing on how to contend with the breach and Corypheus yet again and how, exactly, a girl that should still be learning how to count past ten and have the first flicker of magic showing was standing in front of him in her twenties. 

“Fenora.” 

A pause, no clan name to be given and her mother’s familial name too heretical now. The soft lilt of her mother’s accent still stuck, and the meaning behind her given name did not escape him, much like how Athelle had two familial names and eventually removed her mother’s from the string of words.  _ Harellan _ , a name she’d shared with him covered in wood shavings and with small wolf statues perched on her desk. 

How he’d managed to personally mark a woman for ostracism without meeting her yet spoke volumes, and now he’d passed that down without a second thought. 

“You two look strikingly similar.” 

Cassandra, of course, would be the one to notice the similarities. 

“Distant family, perhaps?” 

Fenora shot Varric a look, an eyebrow quirked upwards and a small shake of her head. 

“I don’t know anyone outside of my mother and a few distant uncles - rejects the lot of us, but I wouldn’t know anything about my father’s side.” 

It was when she looked to him that he realized she knew, had retained memories from before she’d been thrown here. That something in the magic had filled in gaps she shouldn’t have known the information to for years to come. She lagged behind when they moved on, waited for him to fall instep beside her. 

"I take it you already put things together, then? Mother always said you were quick if not a little stupid sometimes." 

She grinned, sharp canines and a gleam to her eyes when he seemed to flinch. Athelle had been nothing if not honest, he supposed. 

“How did this happen?” 

He wasn’t making eye contact, the young woman pulling slightly ahead of him with her gait; far taller than her mother had been and it seemed to be far too much of him had made its way to the child he’d never known. 

A finger curled in fade green tapped against a temple. “Mother lost it again, still had that magister’s notes.” 

“Dorian?” 

“My uncle is no magister. The one that had toyed with Redcliff - Alexius.” 

Solas sighed, seemed to deflate under the realization. He knew Athelle had done plenty of reckless things after he’d disappeared, but after the exalted council she’d managed to evade every agent and shoved him from her dreams. He sometimes forgot just how powerful a mage she was, and his gaze finally turned to Fenora. How much power could she hold, how much of it was trained? 

Catching back up with the others gave him an answer, a demon sweeping in too quickly for him to move his staff and Fenora curled the fade up around her hand and swung. Something he’d seen her mother do after weeks of practice, shifting from the natural pull of the material up onto her staff to her hand, letting her brawl more than a mage typically should. 

“We will continue this discussion later, Solas.” hard edge to her voice and hissed under her breath before she walked forwards. She did not flinch at Roderich, did not question like her mother had. 

He notably did not prefer the mountain path, but Fenora took the rungs of the ladders two at a time. 


End file.
